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Friday, February 29, 2008

Ill Children are very demanding. In between catering to ill children, I've been pondering my quirkyness. In reading this? I know you will find some things in which you agree: [You don't have to admit it, though ;) ]

I don't drink coffee at restaurants (they never clean the lip rim around the mugs; I get the one with the lipstick stain, yuck!).

I almost always use a straw and prefer to only drink through a straw. Because a) it's cleaner and safer, b) I don't like the idea of drink splashing in my face, c) [lids with] straws prevent children from spilling your drink.

I will drink beer from a bottle without a straw. I will also drink beer from a can. I will drink wine from a wine glass, although, I tend to want to clean it first in public places.

I never place my silverware directly on the table (pretty much, anywhere). I feel for Jack Nicholson in "As Good as it Gets" although, I don't think I am quite that bad. (As, I worked in a restaurant as a teen -- I can still recognize the smell of grease trap and stale bleach water).

If my silverware touches the table, I ask for new silverware.

I can kiss my husband, but I could never use his toothbrush. Or, anyone elses.

I don't like to "share" MY toothbrush either. So, please don't ask.

I don't really like to share hairbrushes...or any type of brush.

I tend to not like to walk "bare foot."

Walking on the beach barefoot is kinda' nice but then you have to figure out how to get the sand out from between your toes. I hate sand between my toes [between my anything].

I don't believe in "Green" cleaning products. I like the environment, but I also like my chemicals.

I don't like to share headphones; particularly, the ear bud type. People's ears, including mine, can get kinda' nasty.

It makes me uncomfortable to shake hands. It's a custom so I do it. I just don't like it. [Especially with men. Please don't take offense but I always wonder where the last place your hand(s) were and if you remembered to use "soap" when washing].

I don't like using other people's cell phone or home phones. I prefer my own cell.

Thursday, February 28, 2008

So, all is well in my little world [within my Kingdom and Castle]. I'm running laundry, cleaned my floors (again, kids) and am actually enjoying some ironing for a change. Been a long time since I'd ironed. But, that's because I couldn't find the iron.

In the new house I have a [shhh, new iron] because my old "new" iron dissappeared about a year ago and I refuse to use hubby's old iron as it a) sucks b) has duck tape on the wiring c) the element is exposed d) burns all clothing.

Happily, I am ironing our "cloth napkins" that we were given when married. Ten years later we've decided to start using them. Only, they wrinkle, badly, when washed.

While pleasantly enjoying my peace and quiet [with exception of the little sound of a steaming iron] the phone rings. Knowing ME, you know there are one of two things wrong with this.

1) the phone RANG 2) it's the SCHOOL. Not good. Someone is either hurt or sick. See, the doom thing about the phone? Anyhow.

So, I head to pick up my "what I hope is over-heated son" [he refuses to take off the hoodie sweat jacket once he's put it on]. Teacher says, she too, tried to get him to remove it. I remove it and we all head home, sister in tow because I'm not paying for gas for an extra trip back in an hour.

We get home. He's slobbering in his sleep across my seat belt. Shit. This can't be good. BTW? The whole way home I was listenting to "Montel" and his "germaphobe" episode on the radio. Like, "I" really need that...especially, at this point in the day.

So, once home I head daughter through germ free route to her room. I open son's vehicle door and BEFORE removing him -- I head to the playroom first, to hit the toys and then hit all door handles in the house with "Lysol" to be sure the infestation moves no further than the host it already inhabits.

I then return to remove son from my SUV and to his bedroom. I take his temp, 100.3 and dose tylenol. Still, all the while, hoping he's over-heated. 20 minutes later, this is what I find.

His temp is 100.8. CRAP...definately, ill. Now? I have to detox my vehicle...and then it's FULL OUT germ warfair. So, while cleaning my [leather, kid ruined] seats I think....hmmm, is PineSol good for leather? I try it out. Okay, clean, disinfected....leather survived. Then, I "fog" the vehicle with Lysol and leave a floating mask within the vehicle -- all germs locked inside for final anihilation.

I return to the laundry room with toxic clothing, booster seat and booster seat cover. All fabrics go in the washer with detergent, and yes, Pine Sol. If you think you've smelled Pine Sol on my children and their clothing -- it's not lemon musk. It IS Pine-Sol.

These are my Germ Warfair Staples. They will both "protect me" and get me through this, safely well and un-inhabited by the vile molecular invaders.

The naked booster seat gets a good once over with Pine-Sol and Lysol itself. Then, I run rampidly through the rest of the house. As I hit the computer room, I realize. I am good with phones, door knobs, base boards, light switches, remote controls, mice [the rodent and electronic kind]....but, I've missed...the key board. So, I head for alcohol [the rubbing sort] and Que-tips and cotton swabs. I will be sure to clean this key board when I finally finish this blog.

Then, my sweet daughter comes after me...all feeling left out and claiming to be ill. Funny, she doesn't feel warm. So, to make her feel included, I take her temp. She, too is running fever now. 101. WTH? She doesn't feel it on the outside but those damn invaders are filling her insides with their destructive contamination.

So, my day tomorrow (hopefully, not the WHOLE weekend) will be filled of lots of this.

To boot? My daughter is happy about it. So, now she and big-brother can hang out "sickly" together. Man. Can germs moleculate through cyber space? Just curious. I read my BB's blog yesterday and her son was ill. Hmmmmm. Impossible? I still wonder! LOL Wish me...um, well!

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

So, as I was reading comments yesterday on my newest blog posts I received the sweetest comment from Chatty. In reading her comment I was reminded that "I am a Glass Half Full Gal" and yet, lately? I've been doing a lot of griping. She didn't say anything about me being gripy. But I was so toasty and warm that I kinda' came to it on my own. (BTW? I love ALL your comments. Thanks tons for reading me).

So, today's blog is "Whoo-hoo Wednesday!" And, will be about all the "whoo-hoo" moments of today. Oh, I might sneak a boo-hoo or maybe one gripe in there, but I'll try really hard to limit them :).

So, on we go:

1) I slept most the night! Whoo-hoo!

2) Everyone in the house woke up on the right side of the world and in a good mood! Whoo-hoo!

2) The new coffee I was not fully sure about? Tasted really good this morning. Whoo-hoo!

3) Daughter told me "Let's not be cranky today, OK? Mama? We'll all get along and be nice -- Deal?" (She is four and a half years old and always making deals. She's good at it too, and YES. She makes you shake on it.) Happy Daughter? Whoo-hooo!

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

So, once again while traveling to take the kids to school I get caught behind the stupid, idiot, super-slow driver. And, as there is some construction on one side of the road -- he can't move over. Well, this morning's driver couldn't. Idiots from Nebraska this afternoon could but chose not to.
TOTALLY MESSES WITH MY MIND when people can't drive somewhere near the speed limit. This morning I could get the guy to "almost" go 58 in a 70mph zone. This afternoon? They were going under 50!!!!!! AGHGHGHGHGHA!! And, would not move over to the shoulder. And, as there was oncoming traffic just often enough I couldn't pass them either. Nothing personal against Nebraska. I guess it was my fault my front end was up their @$$ so closely that I could almost touch their plates. I thought, they might get the hint.
Sheeze Whiz!! But, then, TODAY started out as a ruckus. All was well as I was savoring/debating about the new flavor of coffee I bought. [I went to a different store yesterday, and although, they had Folgers -- they didn't have the "Gourmet line." Trying to push their similar store brand crap.] It's alright....but, it's no Creme Brulee.
So, I'm dressed. Son is dressed. Scrambled eggs and toast are on the table. Daughter is dressing in what was supposed to be the clothes I'd layed out for her. She comes in wearing pink shorts and a short sleeved purple frog shirt. It's 58 degrees outside with a wind chill in the 40s. She's not wearing that to school. Oh, but she states enfatically, that she most definately IS.
And, SO? The battle began. If Supernanny would have been here I would've probably looked like a total dumb ass with "no control" over my daughter. Come on, I'm 35 and she's only 4 1/2. But, she is strong....strong willed.....and figuring out she might even be smarter than me.
DH would have belted her a couple of good ones. I don't really like the belt as I'm not very agile with it. And, I still have a few night mares of my own from those occassional [but unecessary] beatings I received -- with the welps on the hands because -- after all. If someone is aiming to whip your ass with a belt? Your hands can't help but try to save said ass.
So, I did paddle [my preference is a wooden spoon, I'm more accurate and have better control of the "intensity."] I did raise my voice. I did try reasoning. My mind made the effort to recall every helpful parenting advice I've ever read and I tried it all. It came down to me holding her down on the bed, stripping off the shorts, fighting to get the pants on.
I put a leg in, she pulls a leg out. I put another leg in, she pulls the other leg out! By the time I get the pants on her and a long sleeved shirt I am sweating like a pig -- and, I don't typically sweat. Even, outside in 95 degree weather I hardly break a "glisten." So, I carry her (all the while she is still flipping around like a 45lb fish in my arms) to the kitchen table so I can "do her hair."
Finally, after getting her hair done I'm thinking maybe it's hotter outside that I thought since I'm still over heated. And, as she is still bitching complaining about the "ugly" brown shirt -- I offer that she may change the brown long sleeve sparkly shirt for a short sleeved pink one (that would match the cute pink and green cammo pants she was wearing).
After that we load up. She is crying, whining, and generally being a pain-in-the-asset. I have to force her in the truck and "sit" on her to keep her in her booster seat so I can buckle her up. I get in the front seat to drive and she unbuckles. My patience is about out the door and I have to mumble my old mantra I hadn't used in a few years....what I could remember: "I am a loving parent, I am in CONTROL....something, something, something, I will NOT EXPLODE."
So, she about finally gets over it after whining, bitching and crying the next ten minutes or so on our way to school. When we finally arrive she is laughing playfully with her brother. As I open the door to expel her let her out of the vehicle and ask if she feels better and is ready to be a kinder, gentler daughter, she knots her face up and gets all whiny again. But, when we walk into class? Oh, she's all peaches and cream. I told Mrs. K, " If you only knew what I really went through this morning."
Head back out to my truck in cold windy weather and put the a/c back on to cool my body, mind, and temperment. Of course, on the way back home I got stuck behind another slow driver. I sware.

Okay, this one is actually one I wanted to use at last week's WWC (Curve) but I could never get a good shot. But, I put it here since I finally captured it. The telephone poles are wood and the "Curve" sign is metal ;)

Monday, February 25, 2008

So, my door bell rang mid morning (and the "kids" are in school). If you know how I feel about the phone? You can imagine how I feel about the door bell.

If you actually have to "ring" this thing? Then, three things cross my mind:a) who the hell are youb) are you dangerousc) how long will it take me to get to my gun

Because anyone who knows me doesn't ring my door bell. The only reason why we even have one is in the event the gate is open and I have UPS ship to my door rather than the office (which, UPS pissed me off today too, by the way. But, I'll get to that.) Or, the occassional random guest attending a party at my house or something.

We live in the country. You don't really ring a door bell, in the country. Besides? My house is located about a good size foot ball field off the road. Ah, but see? I left the gate open cuz' it's a heavy @ss hassle to close it behind me every flippin' time I enter or exit. [I don't know why I didn't take the dirt trail through the field in the back].

So, it's the county tax appraisal people. Here to "measure" my home. Um, we had this done for the loan and all -- can't you just "look it up?" So, they are walking around my house and I can't escape them because we have windows everywhere and no shutters or blinds yet. Which I really don't want, because I love my view -- when there aren't people in it.

Then? They ring it.....AGAIN. These people are brave. So, they ask me for a copy of my house plans because we apparently have a lot of angles and it makes their job hard for them. [Seriously people? You are trying my nerves.... I am armed and I can be very dangerous - just ask one of the Buck's mounted in my living room].

Then they ask about the bonus room. "Is it finished out?" Um, mostly. We did it ourselves. "Well, how finished is it?" What -- are you the home builder police? Am I getting graded [no taxed] on the degree a room is finished? Hey, if it's cheaper? Nope. It's not finished.

"So that'd be 90% finished?" Whatever you think lady. Just send me what you come up with and I'll have my hubby correct you on it. :)He's not real crazy about the "tax" police appraiser either.

I was kind of course. "Sorry, we don't have an extra set of house plans for you. Okay, bye bye. now get the f!!-explicative hell off my property Have a nice day."

So then, my Dad calls. He's on his way back to Texas to deal with this divorce BullShit cowpoop and his birthday present I ordered for him hadn't arrived yet.

So, I go to these guys and track it. Seein' as I can't find it, I call them. The lady seemed up-tight and cranky. I don't think it was anything personal...just her general demeanor and all. So, she tells me there is nothing they can do. The UPS guy is going to attempt to deliver the package [to a locked gate, in the woods]. Then he'll leave a little message with said gate, and try again the next day.

So, I'm thinking this is a whole lot of wasted time and fuel and I don't want the package sitting in the woods gettin' chewed and crapped on by deer, squirrels, wild hogs, and other animal sorts. I question her again, "Doesn't the UPS guy have to make a little note to this account that he 'attempted' to deliver the package?" She replies Yes. "Then, can't YOU put a little note in there on the account that states to wait until his expected return date?" She puts me on hold.

She comes back with "No." She can, however, call the UPS facility there in Dad's town and tell THEM to tell HIM/UPS guy that my Dad won't be there until xx/xx/xx date. Right, isn't that what I was getting at "anyhow?"

But, she re-iterates that the guy will still have to go out there three times -- before, he can put a five day hold on the package (I don't even need five days). "Fine," I say....and add, "Sure sounds like a big waste of fuel to me, but hey..."SO THEN, she agrees with me and gets into all the politics of the oil industry and the hungry people that need to work and feed their families. Now, I'm starting to chuckle to myself because I've hit a nerve with her and she thinks we are on the same side. She ends her tirade with "...so if UPS wants to waste their fuel -- let'em. " I just want my Dad to get the damn package. That's all.

And, third bitch gripe of the day? See below? Who does this? This is BIG peave with me.

If you're going to use the last paper towel on the roll, then it is your responsibility to "replace" the empty roll with a new one. This didn't actually happen today [yet, the day is still early] but it does happen very frequently around here. So, I took the pic this weekend. I just didn't get around to griping about it -- till now. Figured it was appropriate seein' as how I was already good and gripy.

Sunday, February 24, 2008

So about the phone. Doesn't look too scary, right? Yea, but you don't see it all lit up and blinking talking in that computer "mind-warping" tone it has. LOL. I do like this particular phone unit....I just don't like it to, well.....ring?

I went through this same thing about a year ago when it seemed like every time the phone rang -- something was wrong, someone was sick, some one was "bitching," getting divorced, or some one was harmed. Doom. I finally got through it as events in my so called "soap opera" life settled down. {And, I don't think or consider myself a drama queen -- well, I can be in bloggers world but I'm not in reality}. Mrs. T? Sweet D? Am I a Drama Queen? If so, please let me know and I'll seek therapy for that. Or, a good anxiety pill.

Anyhow, back to the phone. Since we've built and moved into the new house -- my "Fantasy World, my Castle, my Kingdom," we've been without a "land line" for two months or more now. This is because we now reside just perfectly between our old house (and pole) and my Fav-in-laws house (and pole)....just enough between that it actually required an "engineer" to come out and "check it out" and approve a new pole, I guess. And, then we had to have a little path trenched for the actual phone wire to be buried within. So, Dh and I were down to only our cells for all this time.

So, I had started to realize that when my phone rings...I'd get....anxious. To try and fix this I even added special rings to friends and family. Like Mrs. T rings a speedy la-la-la-la-la and Sweet D rings "electric guitar." My mom rings "bipity-bipity beep-beep" and so forth. That helped for awhile. But, it was kinda' coming back again. And, then? We got the land line.

When I walk in the kitchen I can feel it eyeing me with it's caller ID eye. It waits there, staring at me, blinking it's little red arrow, knowing I'm fearful their will be a message bearing something negative. I've loved this phone because it actually talks, and announces callers, but I no longer feel it is my friend. And, I LOVE my friends...and I LOVE my family. I am blessed beyond. So, it's not that I don't want people to call me.

But....even with sweet rings. When the phone rings? My heart skips a beat. I clench and get clammy. You can text me, email me, blog a comment or drop by....but ring me? And, I hit panic.

STUPID, I know. Maybe somehow a TV commercial hypnotically symptomized me to this disfunctional phobia. Probably "Zoloft" or "Celexia" or something like that. They insert their hypnotic phobia/anxiety into their fuzzy commercials and then every one goes running to their doctor to get a prescription to purchase the "quick fix." See? That's how they keep making their money.

Or, it could just be that it's, yet another, of my obsessive little quirks that I am slowly sharing with my friends -- letting them in on my little hidden fallacies. I think I am so blessed that it really comes down to the fear of losing something or someone.

Like I've said before. I try real hard and "pretend" to be as perfect as possible -- and, I think my friends truly know this and accept me and let me live in my fantasy. I think they support me cuz' they know it's what makes me tick. And, I love'em for it. You know what would be great? To be Mrs. Cleaver, Martha Stewart and Samantha (Bewitched) all rolled in together. Would I be stretching too far if I added "Wonder-Woman" in there too? I could sure use that lasso on the Hubby kids. ;)

Saturday, February 23, 2008

Saturday...hmmmm....pretty good day, all in all. "KNIGHT RIDER" the new movie is on replay on T.V. tonight. Does anyone else remember watching Knight Rider? I looooovvvved that show. Oh sure, David H. was nice lookin' and I kinda' had a kiddie crush on him. But, my true love? KIT!!! Of course, his voice wasn't as masculine as this new KIT. But, I loved him the car just the same.

I remember I told my mom that ONE day? I was gonna' build cars like that. She replied in that supportive way a lot of moms do "Honey? You can do anything you set your mind to. You're gonna' do great things" and some more of that. I re-assured her that I would build cars like this OR be President. What childhood dreams, right? And, I believed that I would.

Anyhoo, I digress. I guess it's cuz I know someone might find me interesting....or just skim through the "blow" parts.

So, about my Saturday:

1) Sometimes kids are so easy to please. I'm Super Mom today. Thanks to a cool water gun and a pooch that fits in a purse.

2) I made dinner for my Fav-in-laws. Didn't get a call back....hmmmm, hope it tasted ok.

3) I got to run an errand to do something important for a BFF; and, I owed it to her [from two years ago] since I had her hit her Wal-mart unexpectedly to pick up the "last" kiddie drum set for my son's 4th birthday party. (I was having an agoraphobic day today; so, that's a big deal to me.)

4) Cuz' I had to go to Walmart anyway? I got to pick up a case of Shiner Bock. I was down to my last one!!! [Yikes]

5) Since I was there? I even picked up a case of Michelob Ultra Light for DH as I remembered he was going to hang out with the guys on the tail gates and cook meat on a pit again. (For those of you who don't do that regularly, it is a fun thing to do....drinkin' beer and grilling meat is like re-living a superbowl party anytime you feel like it).

5) Mmmmm, still thinkin' about beer and grilling meat....I can smell it and taste it.

6) Kids are watching video and I have cable and the computer ALL TO MYSELF....

7) THE GOOD: I've confirmed a hypothesis. THE BAD: I'm afraid of the phone. This one earns a blog post of it's own....yes, it's that abnormally paranoid unique of a phobia.

As much as I want to share tonight, the kids say the video is over....so, I'll save it for "manana." (Spanish is hard in blogger world without the little "nya" symbol).

So, everyone in the house was pretty much exhausted last night. No one has been sleeping well (little ones included). DH has had allergies keeping him up through the night....which has been keeping ME up through the night. In addition to my "3:00a.m." typical wake up and watch the clock insomniac pattern I've fallen back into.
BUT, last night/this morning? Everyone slept!!!! My dear sweet daughter actually slept herself, until almost 7:am [typically, Saturday mornings are the mornings she chooses to hassle me starting at 5:45 in the morning]. She did venture into our room to inquire if she may have "milk and cheerios?" I would have gladly agreed to anything just to get her back "out" of our room -- I'm so bad, right?
After listening to her clank around in the kitchen she ate her cheerios and then returned to her room to play. WOW!! DH and I continued to lay there and just enjoy the quiet and comfort of the fresh, clean, crisp sheets I had made the bed with yesterday afternoon.
My dear son loves to sleep in on Saturday mornings. Daughter also dared to venture into his room to tease him into waking and playing with her -- to which he howled and growled until she left him alone. I could hear this all the way across the house.
So, we actually got out of bed around here at about....wait for it.....you ready? 7:45 a.m.!!!! WHOOOO-hooooooooo!!! [Happy Dance, break it down!] "Go me-E, Go me-E! Got some sle-EEP, Got some sle-EEP! Whoop! Whoop! [Now I'm jumping up wildly attempting to do those cheerleader jumps. But, I look quite rediculous because my legs don't seem to bend that way anymore and I don't have much spring left in my calves. But, I'm jumping!! And, I'm cheering, just the same!!] Oops, I think I pulled something.
Anyhoo, after making some breakfast I called to check in on my MIL and she had a pretty good night last night [first night back at home, and all]. So, I am joyfully escstatic about that too!
To top it off, this is Saturday and I usually don't have a "list" on Saturday. It's the one day I kinda' take off as best as I can. And, the first thing I chose to do was visit and share with all of you. Happy Saturday (I'm sure I'll be back later to post about some crazy happening of the day.)

This is the euphoria I felt yesterday as I drove up my in-laws drive and saw my MIL sitting on the porch enjoying the beautiful afternoon. That's the first thing she did when she got home from that nasty, ugly, hospital room "without a view."

I have to give a big shout out to GOD, because he captured my joyful emotions perfectly. There is a lot more color in that sky up there -- it just didn't capture as well through my camera lense. I need some type of light/color filter. [Notice how I say that like I "actually" know what I'm talking about -- but, I do think they make some type of filter/accessory for enhancing these type of pictures.]

Anyhow, I am ecstatically joyful [I'll express this joy more clearly and enthusiastically in my next post about "sleep in Saturday!" Whoo-hoo!] and yet calmly peacefull at the same time that we finally got her home. She still has quite a lot of healing to do -- but, it's so much easier in the "comforts of your own home."

So, this is last night's full moon I found hanging up in the big, black, darkend sky. Well, I'm not sure if it is "completely" full.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

A fellow blogger [R.E.H. @ madmanramble.blogspot.com] started a monthly Picture Fiction Story challenge where he provides five photos representing main character, main goal, setting, a key item, and a random photo that should all be pertinent to the story. We ponder the pictures and then let our creative powers flow and see where they take us. Then, we post at the deadline and read what everyone else came up with too.

I've chosen to participate because I enjoy writing and it seems to work mind muscles that have been sagging lately. So, monthly, I will post my latest PFC achievement.-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Now, my first PFC entry/post is somewhat tragic. An entire life(lives) can be changed in half a blink...it is almost unimagineable to me. It is always hard for me to accept.

Thus, it is somewhat dark, hence the title "Tragedy." Just wanted my readers to know, it's not my typical whimsical self. (Below are the photo elements for this PFC):

I think the setting affected me most and foremost. [Deep breath.....sighhhhh] Here we go:-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------"A Tragedy"

So there I was, I don’t even remember what brought me there…but I had escaped. The ugliness of what was revealed before. The beach is so free so I ran, and I ran, and…I walked at times but could not escape it all quickly enough so I ran…and ran some more…until, somehow…my mind still running at full speed…disengaged from my legs as they gave out.

So unfairly, my ill-equivalent mind pushed on. It would not “rid itself” of that word, that term they gave it. That term they gave her. I could not escape it. She was gone….those eyes that so drew me in and melted my soul….they too, were gone. Who could have known…no one is ever safe. There is always danger. There are always strangers. Like the one took her from me, a monstrous beast.

I have to return. I have to go back. I have to deal with her loss and what she left behind for me. I drag myself up tasting the sand in my mouth from my exhausted fall. I begin to walk. People are looking at me but I do not see them. They are watching and wondering. They see my clothes all painted in red. I walk….the boardwalk…..the sidewalk….they bring me to our place.

It isn’t a perfect place. But, it is “our place” we had searched for together. We had scrimped and saved our pennies to afford it. To most it is a dump of a place in a dump of a building. But, to us, it is….it was, our two storied mansion. Our castle as we would have it…and its beauty grew in our minds each time we entered the door. That was a paranormal door. Through it we entered an enchanting world – the world of us. And, we escaped the dum drum of our childhoods and the people who ruined them.

We escaped the poverty we lived in, we escaped the ugliness of the trash cluttered streets, we escaped the cold, the wet, the dreariness of this dark and hideous city. We were making plans in our new place. We were going to flee this city one day and make our future in what was it she called it? Our “blissful haven.” I don’t know if she ever realized that she was my blissful haven.

My legs have carried me back to our door. It is open but our “place” is now strewn with yellow tape. The tape they use to preserve the “event” that has happened here. I find my eyes looking around and I see that shadow box. THE LEAF. It once hung on our wall, affixed and protected by her perfected methods of preserving things.

Now I’m thanking her for preserving that leaf…that one and only “one, in a million leaf.” It is the preservation and reminder of our love. Proof of us. The leaf, and that preposterous picture of that girl “jumping in the sand.” I never quite got why she favored it so. It was just a picture she had taken for an assignment for her first Photography class. She took it the day we met, there on the beach. Maybe that’s why she liked it so much.

But still, we have other pictures, better pictures, and of us together. “But, why display this one on the wall?” I once asked her. Why not in an album, in a scrapbook? It was just a photo. She had tons of photos that seemed so much more important and none of them were adorned to our wall. And, she didn’t even know that girl. But, that’s how she was. It was somehow significant to her. She saw things with those big, seeking eyes of hers. And, whatever she saw in it…she would somehow preserve. Like, our leaf.

When all of this has gone away, I will return them both to their places on our wall. And, I will sit and stare at them. Alone, because that invader took her from me. He took her last breath. He stole it from me and then left her here, in our place slowly painting it red.

It isn’t fair, it isn’t right, I can’t possibly fathom…that she has been taken from me. By some unknown force. Who is this devil of a person to have this power over me? I had everything…and, now I have lost everything…my love, my life, my future.

Without her I will never make it to our blissful haven. Without her my future is inaccessible. I long for the past. I do not long for the future. I do not want the day, after the day, after tomorrow until the day I can finally breathe again. I do not want to breathe again, not without her.

I will somehow find a way and I know I will somehow exist because that is how life is. But, I do not want to. Without her I simply remain left behind with only her memory, a picture, and a shadow box that shelters our leaf.

With all else going on with my MIL who is still in the hospital [apparently, there are five broken ribs, not three -- and one in two places] -- illness has now also invaded and is infecting it's way through the family.
My SIL has some type of virus (white blood cell count was off, but not flu or anything) so she is "quaranteened" to her house until we think she'll be clear. (ie: free of fever, snot, and generally good health for 48 hours after we think she's over it). My baby SIL works all week. The office secretary/manager/cousin is out with a stomach bug and as my Dad-in-law is at the hospital and they guys are all tied up fertilizing and fixing broken tractor parts -- I get to "man" the office today.
AND, YES. I DID LYSOL EVERYTHING. Including keyboards, phones, light switches (they need some serious cleaning) and door knobs.
Basically, I'm to answer the phones and handle any drop ins. So, I was feeling pretty much in control [IMPORTANT] and on top of things (afterall, I did own and manage a legal business for 12 plus years)...I made two appointments for pest control on the books, handled a message and have great notes of what calls to follow up on and confirm, all by about 9:30 this morning. AND, I'd even gotten my WWC posted to my blog (though, a day late).
So, a farmer we know drops by to pick up some chemical he needs to fumigate some bugs outa' something -- grain, I'm guessing. Now, chemicals are not my "expertise." And, yes, I've hear a few of the terms but remember I'm just here to answer phones. So, he walks in picks up a clipboard full of triplicate invoices, hands it to me and says, "Write me up." I stare at him blankly. I blink. (I wasn't really expecting any "drop ins" today and he kinda' interupted my blogging thought process). I finally, respond "Um, I'm just covering and I don't know how." [Thinking, I don't have even a clue of what write you up means]. So HE TELLS ME HOW. Ugh, can you say, idiot [me, not him]? Oh wait, it gets MUCH BETTER. You'll be laughing quite surely in a few more sentences.
"ABC GRAIN CO." I write it on the line that asks for "company/client." Now the next statement included a word that caught me off gaurd for a second, and I didn't quite understand it with his southern drawl (which, I have myself, I think..somewhat and am generally good at interpreting it). Anyhow, it might have been the mustache that twanged the sound a little.
This is what I heard, "5 cases of Fox Toxin" (so, he's got a fox problem and he wants some toxins for them). I write down FOX...he starts to laugh. What? That's what he said. While he's still commenting about how funny it is and that "they'll [meaning everyone else who actually works here] get a kick out of that," it hits me, he meant "Phostoxin" or however you spell it. So, now that I'm looking somewhat...dumb. He adds, "and 6 cases of [I hear] duxmasts." Hmmm, that's a new one. So, I say, "Can you spell that for me?" "You know, DUST like dust? And, MASKS like masks?" [sssiiiiiiigggggghhhhhhh, embarassedly, sigggghhhhh].
So, he leaves me with a look like where on earth did my husband find me and how did he hook up with a "nitwit." Smiles, and leaves. I am wallowing in humiliation -- he thinks I am a TOTAL idiot....I'M NOT!!!!
Less than two minutes later the phone rings and it's my DH. Apparently, farmer guy called him to tell him of my little FOX and spelling issues. He told my DH, jokingly, that I should have my hair died or streaked with some blonde...or something to that affect. Oh, they had a great laugh. DH found it very funny too. So, by this afternoon if they visit the VFW it will be all over farm town that I apparently, have an idiot gene. I'll never live it down. I'm gonna' hear about this at every fish fry, gin dinner, co-op meeting, and any other place farmers frequent and I will feel them secretly snickering.
FOX Toxins...seriously. What the hell was I thinking. Maybe I can hold on to what is left of my dignity -- as I think I'm only scheduled to be here another hour or so.

So, I'm a day late but things have been really hectic around here. Here are my "captures" at FOUND and CURVE. I think I enjoyed the curve a little more.

So, here is a nasty old lighter my kids found somewhere at the back of the property where all the construction remnants still remain from building the house. YUCK! (No offense to those of you who enjoy and partake in a smoke). I will say someone probably found themselves quite irrational when they couldn't find their lighter to "light up."

Here is an old rusted paint brush the kids also found. (I assume it was them because it was neatly placed upon the outside sill of one of our windows.) I am pretty sure this was used by the the crew that stained our cabinets, then it got lost, rained on, rusted...and discovered by small children.

They did a fab job on our cabinets, by the way.

In my hands are some rocks I found in my son's boot. Luckily, before they were spilled out all over the entire floor.

Can you believe these actually remained in that boot all day long? You would think he'd find it uncomfortable and dump them at the playground, where they belong.

I think my curves are much better.Roses have curves (my DH gave me these on Valentine's day).

My daughter has absolutely beautifully full, curved lips. I wish I could say the same for myself, but these also come from my DH.

I apologize for my formatting on this post. I'm not at my own computer and it gets quite frustrating. It shouldn't make a difference, but for some strange reason it does. Oh, and I had one more curve picture of my thumbnail and the half moon within it -- good pic, but "this computer" won't save the "modifications." Ugh, I really need that laptop.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

So, I find myself turning into a blithering idiot. Soon, I'll be slurring upon waking [it's been quite awhile since my lack of rest has caused this, but I feel it coming]. I think I'm a sleep walk blogger, commenter, internet searcher, emailer -- I don't know this for sure but there are places in my "history" I don't remember going, LOL. Just be glad I'm not picking up the phone and dialing on "auto-pilot." [Again, LOL, I'm finding myself funny but something tells me it's just me and my lack of mental thought capacity].
Sure, I hit the hay early and am passing out on my way to the "barn." But, it's the midnight wakings that are zapping me. I'm loosing brain functionability and, by the way? I think I've also misplaced my "funny bone."
Even now as I type this (trying to catch up for Monday's post, since I had not a creative thing to say --tis' not me, typically), I feel my fingers lazily trying to go back to sleep themselves.
My kids woke up this morning: Daughter complaining she was "sick" and needed to stay home. Son crying out of sheer exhaustion himself (and it is only Tuesday). Meanwhile, I am frustrated with the fact that I have been awake since about 3:30 again. It might have been longer, but I tried to hold out on checking my watch for the time because then I really just lay there counting out sixty second minutes and then trying to see how close to correct I really am at each five minute interval.
As I consider actually letting the kids stay home (I realize this again is lack a mental capacity because there is no way they can stay home today) I wonder if I could call in sick...or sleepy. NOPE. Mom is a 24 hour job with no breaks and no vacation. And, lately....no sleep either.
Anyhow, I think I am rambling about nothing interesting....which is where my mind has been lately. But, If you find that I have emailed you or posted a comment ladened with idiocracy -- blame it on the theif who stole my ZZZZZs. I am not responsible for myself until I can break this addictive, tossing and turning cycle.
Tonight I think I'll try chamomile tea.

Sunday, February 17, 2008

This morning when we left for church we were all dressed in boots, warm pants and sweaters or knit tops/shirts. It was in the 40s. When we got home (noon-ish after CCD and all) it's now in the 80s. This is how the weather goes down here in big ol' South Texas.

It is absolutely gorgeous! The kids are smart. First thing they did was change into play clothes and head straight out to their swingset tower.

I'm jealously watching them as I see my stainless appliances smeared and needing polishing. The toilets are due for a scrub and the mirrors have acquired splatter from small children wrecklessly brushing their teeth...and wrecklessly washing their hands.

As I entered the house, I swaped laundry loads on my way to change into "my" play clothes. Today, I actually have dawned my shorty-shorts, a matching T-shirt and my tennis shoes (always, gotta be fashionable, even if it just around the house for chores).

While walking through the house picking up tidbits of toys and disheveled junk inappropriately placed....I'm thinking how I'd love to just sit out on the back porch with my new book and read. While watching the kids play (and fight). But, also while walking through the house I can't help but notice little tiny pieces of "dust and matter" that are begining to speckle across my floor.

See, this is what I do to myself. I tell myself I'll kick back and sit back right after I finish [insert next project/chore] and it goes like that until I have "chored" away an entire beautiful day. Today, I'm going to do things differently.

While so many things are "nagging in my mind" that I need to tend to them right away, I'm going to make myself sit out on my beautiful back porch (where we are still lacking landscaping). And look out at the kids playing [fighting again] and out over the empty fields patiently awaiting to be planted, and start my new book.

(See? Not a single cloud in the sky)And, in an effort to relax and calm my nagging brain I think I will treat myself to one of these as well. Just kinda' fits the afternoon and the whole "kick back and relax" idea.

(This is my plan....we'll see how it actually goes.) Get out there and have some fun today, even if it's not quite as sunny your way!

Saturday, February 16, 2008

So, I am too tired to blog tonight. I took a pic or two of the "BIG STORM" that was comin' and blowing it's way in this afternoon. Thinking that'd be my "big story and pic of the day." Five hours later I see a little lightening but none of this GREAT BIG RAIN we were expecting. That's bad math for meteorologists down here -- they catch a pretty bad wrap, 'specially from us farming group.

Anyhow, I've been ready to pass out comfortably in my bed...with a book I entend to read but know I won't actually start cuz' I'll fall asleep to whatever is on cable (should that big, bad storm not scramble the signal). I know it is VERY early...but, my daughter woke me before 6:am on a Saturday....my ONLY day to sleep in, unresponsibly...till, like, maybe 7:30ish. CRAP!

Tonight, Hubby is catching up on the farm report and local gossip with the "buddies" -- which means drinking beer while sitting on tailgates and watching something cook on a pit. Kids have comandeered "my" bedroom seein' as it has one of the only two DVD players hooked up so far...and, I am killin' time on the computer. Can't even think of anything fun to look up. Already checked all my FAV blogs but too tired to "comment" on somethin'. And, too tired and lazy to figure out anything new for my "MYSpace" my BFF has enticed me into.

Maybe tonight I will grab that book afterall....hit the couch and pass out to cable there. I'll leave it to dear DH to re-locate the sleeping childen to their own beds, and while he's at it he can "re-locate" his Dear Sweet ME to my appropriate sleeping place. Would he and could he be so kind?OH, WAIT. I forgot to review my lesson plan for CCD tomorrow (hmmm, wonder if I can cramm first thing in the morning -- no, that's just not me). So much for my "pass out" fantasy.

Ngt y'all. If you wake during the night, or if you sleep straight through -- hope you think/dream of me! And, if you do? Think/Dream about me sleeping blissfully -- positive thoughts and re-inforcement are very appreciated after all.

Friday, February 15, 2008

So, I had a "sewing lesson" today. Had my Gramm not passed away [it's been five and a half years now] she would have provided the lesson herself. And, in some strangely, awesome way....she did.

I'm pretty good with a glue gun. I've crafted ALL types of stuff for my kids parties, etc. From life size tee-pees, to tu-tus, stick ponies, PeterPan hats, and Indian headbands -- feathers included. But, there is something powerful about a "stitch." Had I known how to use this thing [and, had I had it at the time] I could have made stick ponies for everyone at my son's "Spirit [Stallion of the Cimmarron]" party. You can make'em for about $3-4 bucks but to hand stich them all? With the mane? Forget it.

So, "Kay" drove in a good hour to teach...just, little ol' me. She won't teach more than 3 students at a time and I got lucky enough to have her all to myself. This lady knows everything, I mean ever-y-thing about sewing. [And, yet she shared that "we" are always learning.] She's in her 60s and she's been sewing since she was FIVE years old.

She taught me way more stuff than I'd ever use (my Dad says, "you never know...") Lots about fabrics and the way they set and...um, other terms that I forget. How to stitch a Flat Fell Seem, a Hong Kong Finish, and a French Seem (which was apparently invented by a seamster who embarrasingly "messed up" and "rigged" his project with this seem. So embarrassed that he didn't claim it. It's a seem worth FORTUNES now.) This sounds all well and boring, I know. But, I actually sewed these seems.

She was "very thorough" too. Keeping her iron hot to "press" each individual seem I had stitched. She was as much a fountain of knowledge about sewing as my Gramm was about typing and proper grammar. I could call my Gramm with any grammar question. She knew almost ALL the grammar rules.

When the lesson was over she had one final requirement of all her students. [I already knew what it was.] A hug. I'd spent the morning learning, and smelling her (she smelled that perfumie smell like my Gramm), and watching her (she had that same crow crinkle like my Gramm -- the same crow crinkle I am now developing). She sounded and behaved, re-incarnate of my Gramm. I didn't have the chance to tell her this as I had to rush off because I wanted to take lunch to my beloved MIL and eat with her at the Hospital. The $20.00 my private lesson cost me barely paid for her fuel. But, it was worth a lifetime of memories.

I think I'll send a card to her to the store. And, although, I don't have time to sew master-pieces...I just might take one more lesson. For memories sake.

[FYI, I left out? My mom inherited the "super sewer gene." I'd have her teach me but I'm too selfish with her time. I prefer to "share her" with my kids :) ]

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Seriously y'all? How much candy? Does one child [or even two] need? Even, at a healthy dose a day it would take several months for all of this to be consumed. Only, by then? There would have been two or more holidays, birthdays, and other sweetly intoxicated events and this bundle of "poison" would be 14 times this size.

Now, I'm not a fuddy duddy. As you can very well see below:

This is my daughter and she is happily partaking in a purple Valentine cupcake. And, that is fine. So long as it is ONLY one cupcake...and not prefaced and footnoted by un-numbered amounts of candy and a rainbow of additional cupcakes.

I just don't get it. Why does every event have to be "candy coated?" Particularly, when it comes to children. Just because they like it, doesn't mean they need it. As parents, we need to set the example. It is very hard as a parent to set boundaries when no one else [well, not "no" one, but so many] choose not to worry about it. So, Tom, Dick and Julie pile on the candy and they get to be the heros -- while I [being the responsible parent] get to be the "bad guy" and "hexed" by my children. It just isn't fair.

My son can tolerate his sugar pretty well. It might make him a little "wild" at the sugar rush and "gripy" at the sugar bust. But my Daughter? She grows horns. She becomes Satan's best friend. Her wings melt away and the halo does as well. She becomes like a "meth addict." She'll do "anything" for MORE. She will climb, scale, sneak, and literally break into anything and anywhere if she knows there is more of her "drug" to be found there. And, she really can't help herself. She is completely and totally "out of her mind." She'll set her brother up (oh, she is so the con-artist) and sit back when he takes the fall [whippin']....just waiting for her next chance to get at some more of that sweet "pixie dust."

You think I jest, but jest I do not. We have to lock her down and detox her. It is completely awful.

So, a little is fine. A peice or two. But, keep in mind that I wanna be the "hero" sometimes too and get to give a little candy instead of taking it away. So, the next time you are shopping for that party or event? Skip the candy isle. Hit the dollar store instead. The kids love the cheap crappy toys just as much [sometimes more] and they might even last a little longer. Oh, and they don't require detox.

One more thing. If you see these cute smiling faces begging you "Pleeaaase? May we have some candy?" Be strong. Furrow your brow. Put your fingers in your ears and holler "la-la-la" so that you will not fall under their trance....and slowly walk away.

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

So, today we had that "re-testing" to re-evaluate my daughters Vesicoureteral reflux a/k/a uninary reflux. This is where when expelling urine from the bladder some urine gets sucked back up through the ureter(s) toward the kidneys. It is not a good thing.

MEDICAL EXPLANATION: At her last testing she showed a level I or possibly II. Reflux may be mild (Grades I - III), or moderate to severe (Grades IV - V). Grades IV - V mean that the urine is reaching or possibly "backing into" the kidney -- which results in kidney damage. So, it was an issue to be concerned about and re-addressed [today] to see if it would clear on it's own or need further, more invasive attention.

A LITTLE HISTORY: Aubree had been potty trained excellently for four months or so. She would even wake 2 to 3 times a night, sleep walking her way to the potty. At, the time I actually complained at having been woken so constantly night by night. (Look where that got me/her. Now, I feel selfishly shameful.)

Suddenly she started having little dribble incidents. And, she was having trouble holding her urine. And, she needed to go to the potty constantly and it would seem that she had emptied her bladder -- only to tinkle in her panties two minutes later. We were going through 25 pairs of panties a day and I couldn't hardly take her anywhere without sitting her on the portable potty seat before and after every errand -- and, even pulling off the road at times, just so she could go. She was constantly rashed, sometimes quite horribly. And, she began having UTIs.

TODAY: All was well and I was happy this day was finally here to determine and explore our options. Although, at the same time, I was very anxious and apprehensive that the feelings I've kinda' been having -- might be a probability, due to the last several months of dealing with her "issues."

She pleasantly complied with the procedure until the part where we had to hold her arms above her head and they inserted a catheter into her bladder (through which they inject water and a dye that will show up on the "camera" monitor). At this point she fell completely apart....crying, fighting, totally uncomfortable. Meanwhile, I continue to try and distract her with different stories, things to do, and of course offer her "candy" when we get finished, if she'll cooperate. [CANDY can be a very, powerfully, persuasive thing]. What was about 15 horrible minutes seemed like 25 - 45 waiting for the "doctor" to come in to perform the procedure.

She finally did and Aubree and I were both impressed at being able to "see inside" her and see her bladder fill up, see her kidneys, see....the reflux....I had seen this at the last procedure. This time the reflux went all the way up to her kidney. My heart flipped, then my chest tightened. My fingers started getting numb and I felt a panic attack coming on. I knew this was NOT good.

I question the doctor and she plainly agreed, "Oh, yes, that is a level four." HOLY FLIP! HOLY FLIP! Holy crap! Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! I am completely freaking out inside....I play it cool. "Come on Honey, lets get dressed and go see the doctor for your review." Everyone is nice and smiling and sending us on our happy way. They don't know that I knowwhat this means.

I mention to my husband on the way down the corridor to the Urologist's office, "Honey, do you know what this means?" [He had no clue] I only offer that Level IV is bad....and, definately not good. There will be some surgery.

The next 35-40 minute wait was unliveable. I'm pacing at a frantic rate, all the while trying to play along with Aubree in her little games in the treatment room. DH is drawing on landscape for the house as a means to pre-occupy himself. I start tearing up. I almost stop breathing. I am desperately fighting off the panic attack that is about to take over me. I am picturing them cutting her open and messing around with her insides. Mind you, she has previously had two eye surgeries which were frightening as she is so young -- but not nearly as invasive.

DH complains for me to sit down that I'm driving him crazy with the clippity clop of the heal of my boots marathoning back and forth across the treatment room. So, I sit but my knee is bouncing so frantically that the sound is almost worse. FINALLY, the doctor comes in. Asks some questions, history (he's a different doctor, but with the same group). I'm full of all the answers....and going nuts....waiting for, wait here it comes "So, let's discuss the results of today's VCUG....she was a level I. Now, she is a level IV. So, we need to deal with this." And, he breaks out his little pictures of the urological system.

As he is explaining the problem of which I am already aware and begins discussing procedures he can see the tears welling up in my eyes [I can't take any pressure anymore I sware -- at least not when it comes to my kids]. He begins to glance a little more frequent at my DH while I fight to maintain my composure.

THE GOOD: Luckily, they now have this procedure where they can enter through the urethra and inject a "sugar like" [but unabsorbable] substance under the tissue at the base of the ureter where it attaches to the bladder. The first time it is 60-70% effective. Sometimes, a second injection is required, with about 80% effectiveness at that point. If that doesn't work, then they go in and "re-implant" her ureter into her bladder. (The thought makes me quiver and shiver.)

SO, we've got one to two good chances to beat this thing before it could become a really, serious, serious, issue. We take Aubree to pick out her candy and to lunch at her favorite [well, our favorite] pizza joint. I walked immediately to the beer cooler, grab a bottle of Shiner Boch, open it...and slam it back. I really need about three. But, I breathe....I think....I eat my salad and a cheesy meaty slice of pizza and I realize.....my Glass is half full. It teetered for a few hours there...but, so far I have it in balance, though barely....at least for the next two weeks.

That is when we will endure the first procedure, though outpatient (which is great cuz' I can dote on her all day while Big Brother is in school)....and, I can hope, pray, cross my fingers that the first one will take and restore her to her perfect angelic glory -- less the tarnished halo.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Here I am AGAIN. And, it's 11:03 pm. I wanna' be in bed....falling asleep to my typical shows and reading till I drop my book and roll over on it when I wake up at 2 or 3:am. BUT, I had to fold all that laundry. (Okay, I didn't fold it ALL. But, I did hang everything and place it in the closet to which it belonged....but, I saved the towels. They need special attention, after all. If you've been reading me for awhile....you know and understand this.)
So. WHAT is keeping me here? WHAT is keeping me up, way past my bedtime...and why am I on the computer watching late night T.V. while DH is in bed? This is waaayyyy back-ass-ward.
1) DH is probably snoring and I always have to "wait out" the snore factor if I don't beat him to sleep.
2) Possibly, I am concerned about my MIL's discomfort and constantly wondering if she will "actually" get some sleep tonight.
3) Maybe, it's because my daughter has appointments tomorrow for updated urology tests and then we discuss the "options." All of which, I am thinking are not my preference. My preference would be that she be fantastically, physically, mentally, emotionally, and behaviorally, perfect in every way. Hey, I'm an optimist.
4) The late night hot shower stimulated my mind and body and now I have to go through the cooling period to let myself relax into sleepful oblivion.
5) The sleep aid hasn't kicked in yet.
6) The wine isn't helping the sleep aid kick in.
7) I'm still a little disturbed about "putting off" the folding of the towels.
8) I'm trying to stay up so late until I'm passing out tired [drunk/drugged] so that I actually make it to the bedroom without checking "all" the locks on all the doors again....hoping to break the "habit." (Secretly, this never works, cuz' when I "pop" at 3:am and roll over to go back to sleep -- I remember that I "forgot" to triple check....then, I lay there thinking about it....until I do. I know, I'm a freak.)
9) My mind won't stop talking to me.
10) I can't decide between egg & cheese stuff crescent rolls or french toast for the kids for breakfast in the morning. (What I make decides if I get the extra 10 minutes or not).
Okay, so checked on DH and he is actually waiting for me to come to bed and beat him to sleep! He's watching old country music classics! You'll know I found my peaceful sleep if I'm not back in ten). Or, at 3:00 a.m.
Oh, heavenly sleep here I come right after I check the locks.

So, how many of you actually have ever watched/watch Big Brother? It is the only reality TV show I actually watch and stick with. I like Survivor but I have lost interest. After Rupert was gone, well it just wasn't the same. And, the amazing race is alright but I'm typically only a watcher when there is nothing else on.

I'm watching as I'm blogging and I'm wondering if I'm actually going to like any of these characters. I usually like the twists, but I'm not sure about this whole "cupid season." And, what is up with starting in February? Big Brother, after all begins in the summer.

OK, so, I like the blonde girl and her ex, the cute military guy -- I hope they rekindle their romance. Oh, and the "ex-model" now in her late 40s totally needs to chill out. The Guy is NOT your "real soul mate." It's just part of the show theme this season. He's your "show partner." She's totally flippin' out cuz' she didn't get set up with one of the 20+ year old hottie guys! Shame on her, honestly, she's old enoughto be their Mama. See? It's that easy, NOW....I'm hooked again.

Takes me back to my first summer as a Big Brother Junkie. It was the second season (previously I was a high-powered business woman owning a business in the legal field. I'd managed it since about 19 or 20 and owned it since I was 25. Early bloomer, I know.) Then, I became pregnant. And, shortly after birth [six months shortly], I became pregnant again. My hubby was working the 24-7 plan during harvest that year. And, seeing as I was very pregnant, tired, and unable to drink beer [or other spirits] I pretty much stayed....home and crashed early in bed. THUS, I found an unexpected love for this "world" of people and how they relate, manipulate, flirt, scam, cheat, "shomance," and I rooted for those honest few. But the best party was that I got to watch from the "side lines."

It's like real life, only from the comfort of my home and without having to play it in the real world. Oh, but I must say I never have and never will like "Dr. Will." He's a total A-hole, Face-hole, and he thinks he's all this and all that just cuz' he knows how to inject botox and maybe build a new nose [and maybe a few other cosmetic surgical procedures]. (He was on two previous BB series).

So, I will sit, stand, walk from room to room with each T.V. on three nights a week. All, to keep up with the lives of these people I do not know, while managing my own life and household. And, hoping all the same that the most deserving wins.

Enough about that. On to today. It was good, although, once again, off track....ughghgh! Why am I being tested so? But, I handled, I maintained, I change plans [kinda'] spontaneously...and I held my own. All except for this:

Yes, the nagging cart of laundry. I've been folding this stuff all week and yet it is unending, un-yielding? Because of the unexpected time conflictions the past few days it has sat, filling up with new clean clothes faster than I can fold and assert them to their proper locals'. In the back of my mind it is constantly there driving me nutty. But, I'll fix that tonight....even, if it keeps me up "past my bedtime." (Way, WAY, past my bedtime...but [sigh] I'll just wake up at 2-3:am anyhoo.) Maybe the laundry cart will "reset" that time clock.

Monday, February 11, 2008

ONCE AGAIN, my brain clicks and my mind "pops" awake at 2:30 this morning. I am so desperate for a full nights sleep! Why, why, WHY? I toss, I turn....I toss back again. Now, my DH is snoring....ughgh. This is day three, four? No, wait...I think day six now, that this has been happening. Finally, 5:00 a.m. comes along and, of course, then, I fall back asleep. What a tease.

Please tell me I am not falling back into that pattern again. I am heading to Ambien world? Insomnia is not new to me....just entirely unacceptable since I have birthed children. The world is no longer in your complete control when you have children. Because a) they don't follow the program; rather, they make it up as they go b) You don't CONTROL the program...oh, you might think? But, really, you've adapted to "theirs." c) patience requires lots of rest; sleep is an essential to your children (and your own) mental sanity and survival.

In high school? I'd be up all night long without even knowing it -- homework, folders, organizing things, re-arranging my room, re-folding my clothes to re-organize my chest of drawers, color coding my closet, and so forth....until, the alarm went off at 5:30 a.m. Then, I'd realize, oops, I've been up all night. Head to shower and primp, eat my raisin bran and read the comics and then drive to school. (I had zero hour, over acheiver and all).

So it was today. Although, I actually layed in for the first snooze... Then, jump up and leave sweet daughter in bed behind me. Dress, paint face, stumble for kids clothes (usually set out the night before), and make breakfast. Take kids to school, longing and promising myself that when I get home? I'm gonna' fall out on the couch for a 30 minute catch up. But, I don't.

Today is my only "free day." Sure, lots of stuff on the list but no actual errands to run if I can wing it all correctly. That way, I can spend the day stocking away casseroles for my in-laws to help cover meal times when she gets back home. I tick and click away the phone calls while defrosting meat and grating cheese. I'm a quick witt and finding I'm quite full of myself and my efficiency.

THEN? The phone rings and the caller ID says it's the school. CRAP. So, now I'm changing plans and picking up BOTH children since it isn't fuel efficient to leave one for one hour over the other. Scramble to preserve my "masterpeices" clean and have GodMother sit for Dear Daughter (who, had once again lost her halo) so that I can spend three to four hours to find out my son will not die tonight...but should I have not taken him into the MDs I would have forever adorned the title "BAD PARENT" if his injury was of importance. Turns out....not stomach virus, no great medical issue -- he merely "injured" [bruised most likely] the very dear nearness to his "pork and beans." But, the below the navel part. My son of course could not for the likes of himself "recall" just when this incident did happen. Either way, $20.00 co-pay and four hours now behind in my schedule....he's healthy.

Thank goodness I had kept the scrapped together of a partial casserole, and threw together what turned out to be a tasty dinner. But, no book was read and as the clothes had been put on hold (and, I had lost those four hours I was gonna' make up for it with) the kids are short a shirt here and some pants there, and maybe a sock or two [I HATE SORTING SOCKS])...the kids did get to watch their 20 minute allotment of video [which I expanded to a whole 60 minutes] while I cleaned the kitchen, made lunches, changed the laundry to find the "missing clothes" and all the while DH has to leave at 10:00pm to fumigate a ship at 1:00 a.m. And, I'm complaining I get no sleep.

Just another Manic Monday (is that Cindy Lauper I hear in my head?) And, I'm thankful for it.

Saturday, February 9, 2008

There is no pic today. Although, I did take a few. My children playing with their cousin...the beautiful, gorgeously, fantastic sunset the Lord provided as a "peaceful" sign to me. But, no picture post tonight.
Tonight's blog is dedicated to one of the most amazing, loving, loveable, respectable, classy all the while totally down to earth, women that I know. This woman, is my Mom-in-law.
She is the epitomy of the mom I want to be. She is respected because she is a respectable person, she is accepting, she is stern when needed. She is inclusive. I feel as much as a child of hers as her own. She reprimands (though, with the softest of tact) and she glorifies...all of us.
She is understanding. She is consoling. She is supportive. She is unequivalently fair -- I love her truly. I worry for her...she is as much a parent to me as my own, and equally as much a mother.
She is grace and yet total earthy hilarity. She'll entertain a good glass of wine with a delicate hand, or, just as easily an ice cold beer on a hot sundry day.
Today, we had a scare. She was pitched off a horse. She has been riding horses (although, not as frequent the last multiple years) since she was a young girl. There is a picture her father took of her when she was much younger, where she looks like a rodeo Princess. She belongs there, a-top that beautiful steed.
My husband says, "They are too old to be riding horses...it's dangerous...what if this and what if that." The way I see it? I picture the two of them [my Dad-in-law and herself] trotting softly across their ranch. Stopping to admire the blue bonnets, the catfish flipping in the pond...listening to the cows as they bellow and catching a beautiful sunset. They deserve that. Alas, she might not ever stride a horse again. Not because she is unable but because the rest of us will probably wraggle with her out of our own fear.
She is in the hospital tonight. A few broken ribs, a punctured lung...Today, while lying in the pasture she didn't hardly wince as nearly as much pain as she felt. She is a truly strong woman. She scared me today. Because, I can't fathom life without her in it. She is my compass. I learn from her daily.
She'd hate that I shared this with "the world" which is just the few people who know me or are coming to know me. So, please don't tell all. But, if you know me and you know her....please share in passing...how much I love her, respect her, and hope to be just a little more like her each and every day. She is an example to strive for. Yet, she doesn't really see herself that way.

Friday, February 8, 2008

Disclaimer: I'm not a cruel person, but, I can't very well have these "cute" little germ infestations running amuck through my home.RE: My last post -- Did I mention? My daughter is STILL whining....total melt down. Apparently, I used the "wrong cup." UGH!